Lullaby of Sadness - Better with audience
by Omano-chan
Summary: Tony took up the habit of sitting in front of a piano when he can't sleep. And Loki wants to know why does he look always so sad and haunted at those times. And Tony tries everything to avoid answering and remembering. FrostIron, Tony/Loki, established relationship R&R please!


**A/N: Hey all! It's noce to finally present something. A bit long oneshot, but it's dear to me. I hope you'll like it as well.**

**FrostIron - Tony/Loki**

**Longer sum-up:** Tony and Loki have been "together" even before the events of Thor and then after Thor and Ironman2 and then Loki was taken away to Asgard for punishment after the Avengers. And that was the time when Tony realized that he was actually f*cking in love with the crazy god. And he seeked some shelter from loneliness near his piano. After returning from Asgard, Loki wants to know why does he always look so sad when he sits near his piano. And Tony tries everything to avoid answering.

**Sentiment, a lil angst in the middle and the end.**

**Better with audience – isn't it?**

**Lullaby of Sadness**

The night was miraculously calm just like the past few days. The moon shone full and bright making the light of the stars look pale and distant as she marvelled her reflection on the softly rippling surface of the ocean surrounding the Stark-mansion in Malibu.

The building was as peaceful as the whole world around. Which was only surprising since it was full of people.

The miracle happened and the Avengers got to go on a few days of holiday (but strictly within a defined radius and only for the weekend) after Tony, Bruce and Loki blew up half of the lab-floor because they had nothing better to occupy themselves with.

So actually they weren't much on a holiday – they were rather banished from the Avengers Tower – yet Tony stubbornly stuck to call their little time-out a well-deserved holiday, because apparently no one banishes Tony Stark from his own tower (except for Pepper, but that's another question).

So they were currently residing in Malibu – all of them, because it was just a great opportunity for Tony to show off and for some team bonding. They should make the most of it, right? And since it wasn't a big who-knows-how-many-stories tower, Tony couldn't hide away from team-bonding activities. Like board games.

Tony had absolutely no idea how they even found _one_ not to mention _five_! He suspected it was to do something with Pepper and _Coulson_.

So that explains why they didn't spend half of the day searching through the mansion for Tony and Natasha another couple of hours to reboot JARVIS so that Loki or/and Steve could drag him out from his lab. No really – the old threat of a taser and a marathon of super nanny was still perfectly working on him even after spending on-and-off one year with Loki in a relationship.

Fridge empty – Tony had no idea what they were going to have for breakfast – he would leave it for JARVIS or their other nannies to make sure they don't starve (Avengers, especially Captain America and Thor with empty rumbling stomachs were a disaster, mind you), jokes cracked and everyone laughed out, the mansion finally settled to silence.

But not too surprisingly the insomniac on duty wasn't in bed.

Tony set off wandering about half an hour ago after he watched Loki sleep for some time that seemed to be hours, when he decided he would go on his supposedly used-to-be walks around the mansion so that he wouldn't wake the slumbering god. He didn't want to ruin the beautiful sight that was Loki sleeping in his bed, in a shirt he stole from Tony, snuggling into the pillows that smelled of the mortal.

This scenery brought back memories.

Sad ones.

Being back in the mansion surrounded by people who cared for him, yet feeling so much alone. Empty.

He blamed it on Bruce. No, in real he should blame it on Loki, because it was all his idea to do something fun in the labs while no self-declared super villain wanted to take over Manhattan. And of course having fun for the science-bros meant blowing up things. The bigger explosion – the more fun. And of course creating havoc also happened to be an element of Loki.

Mix them together, add a little extra mischief to the compound, give some spice of Stark Tech and there you get a blow-up blasting nearly half of the Avengers Tower.

So actually it was more Loki's fault. However by now he knew better than blaming such things face to face on the Liesmith. He liked sleeping in his own bed, thank you very much.

These thoughts brought a weak smile to his lips. However, it wasn't enough for amusement to reach his eyes. His vision was filled with the majestic black grand piano. The whole room was bathing in cold blue light. And Tony's feet as if set on motion knew where to bring him. The next moment he found himself sitting with tense shoulders on the small chair in front of the piano, fingers ghosting over the surface of the ivory and ebony coloured keys.

Tony didn't realize that the haunted look that hadn't been a visitor feature on his face for months, returned in his eyes. Making him look as cold and empty and lost as he felt inside.

"Why so sad?"

Tony jerked out from his stupor at the velvety tone.

Then he just realized where he was and hurriedly and not less embarrassed tried to act as if he was sitting in front of the piano by mere accident.

"Eww – hhi – w-what did you say?" Tony stuttered awkwardly. _Genius, Tony, really._

"You always look so sad when you sit by your piano." Loki missed to comment on his pitiful behaviour. That meant serious business. And Tony was screwed if that was it.

"I only asked why is that sadness?" Loki went on with his smooth silky voice as he strolled to the instrument so elegant like nothing in the universe. Long limbs moved in perfect harmony and grace, head held high, brilliant eyes fixed at his goal – bearing deep into Tony's soul.

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about." Tony leapt into defence mode immediately. An alarm going off in his head, blinding red capitals flashing up, shrieking _danger! _and _keep your mouth shut!_ And Tony just wanted nothing but to jump to his feet and flee from the room – However, Loki was there to stop him.

"Shame." the demi-god cooed into his ear from behind – his hands on Tony's shoulders in a firm grip to keep Tony in place. "Then I have to ask straight." Thumbs slowly started massaging the tense muscles.

"Play it for me. I want to hear you inventing your music."

"Aww nonononono" Tony's defence mode switched to a higher level if that was even possible. "You are sorely mistaken, Reindeer Games. I just happen to be sitting here – not that I could play. Hear this? Me? Tony Stark playing a piano? It sounds absolutely ridiculous! What are you thinking? Me and art? Just ask Cap – he would prove for you I have nothing artistic in me. He was once an art student, you can trust his judgement, if he says so right? And on top..."

His rambling was cut off by Loki's little irritated snort and his long fingers digging into his shoulder just at the perfect places to shut Tony up and make him still and sort of obedient. Like holding and lifting a cat by the back of its neck.

"But I once heard that playing the piano is nothing but pure mathematics." Loki mused coolly.

Tony couldn't surpass gulping audibly. Because he could hear out that little predatory glint from that voice which shone in Loki's eyes every time he was sure he was marching towards his goal.

And no one can stop him.

"Umm." _ Intelligence is showing itself, genius! _"You may have a point there, but..."

Those fingers pressed a bit harder again before Tony could finish the sentence.

"Then it shall mean no problem to a genius."

Bastard.

"Yeah, and otherwise I would be flattered that you recognized my brilliance for the first time, but you see, I have never tried it yet so..."

A soft amused chuckle rose from Loki's chest.

"Your constantly failing attempts at lying to the god of Lies is still more amusing than you might think."

"Very flattering mood you are in tonight I see."

"Hadn't I known for sure this wasn't true I might have even believed you."

"No wonder – I'm learning from the best – but hey! How can you know such thing for sure?"

"Now, now. No escape from here Anthony."

And Loki's long fingers snaked around Tony's neck, sending a shiver along his spine with their cool touch and running over his collar bone they returned to their rest on his shoulders. The movement still sent chills down his back, but it was not from the same reason it had been a few weeks ago when Loki still had problems losing control over his subdued megalomania and Tony had to fear for his life. Because Loki just always happened to _lose it _around Tony and at those moments he preserved some kind of obsession in going for Tony's neck.

"You have heard me sing. Now I want you to play the piano. For me." Loki stated still on that amused tone, but for someone who had been enduring him for more than a year now, Tony knew Loki was losing his patience and he definitely was talking down on him. As Tony spoke most of the times to his board members.

"Yeah, I understand that, but the only tiny problem here, Princess is that not even Pepper could make me touch the keys. And believe me: if she were – Pepper would be the goddess of blackmailing."

"How sad." And the little glimpse of smirk nearly flashed in the room. Tony was tilting at windmills. "And how lucky for me that I just _happen_ to be a real god for that."

"What? You suddenly earned the title of God of Blackmailing? Because you've always forgot to add it to your endless list of titles while introducing yourself. Or showing off if that's the case."

"No, but I can be _very _persuasive if the need arises."

"Please" Tony leant back on his chair, his back flush against Loki's chest so that he could look the Mischievous god – more or less – in the eye. "You think you can convince the one who made Clint dye his hair purple?"

"If you pay him enough, that is not a great achievement."

"But to keep it that way on a press conference and claim he dyed it, because he thought it matched his suit better? And then to endure Fury's infamous one-eye-glares?"

"Hmm. It is still beyond me, how you are still alive and in one piece –"

"I make his arrows."

" – but let me assure you –" and Loki leant down so that he was murmuring the next words into Tony's ear. "I'm called Silvertongue for a reason..."

The words that followed made Tony's cheeks heat up in the dark and caused breathing hard, especially if he didn't want a whimpering needy little moan escape his lips as Loki's hot breath tingled his skin and cool lips brushed his ear as the luring phrases flew freely from them.

Only for Tony to hear.

And what was said kept on repeating in his calculating mind like the most beautiful chant – a very effective and enticing chant.

"So?" Loki asked on a low velvety tone. "What do you say?"

"Persuasive little bitch" Tony managed to squeeze out breathlessly.

Then he closed his eyes. Forced himself to inhale. And then to exhale.

Tony had to admit he was defeated.

He was screwed.

But he'll make sure that Loki keeps his word.

He sighed and squirmed a bit on the chair to get down to work.

"As pity as it is. This is not really inventing." Tony mumbled under his breath, as if Loki would ever pay any mind to his excuses. "I would rather call it re-discovering..."

* * *

At first Tony caught himself wandering about the Tower, his fingers drumming a rhythm on his thighs absentmindedly. Then they started moving up and down the length of his leg as if playing on a keyboard while he hummed the soft lulling tune.

When he realized what he'd been doing, he frowned at himself and felt a strange strong urge to crush everything around him – then it struck him just in time that he was actually in the kitchen and it wouldn't worth the coffee maker.

A day without coffee at the Avengers' was like a surprise visit from the Apocalpyse.

So instead he headed down to his workshop to check if he could get anything apart into so little pieces even he wouldn't be able to recall what it'd been in its better days until Steve drops by on his way up from the gym with a punching bag on his shoulder that miraculously managed to survive his insomnia slash nightmares of the actual night, and finally beats some sense into Tony and drags him up back to the kitchen and then command him to go to bed on his Captain America voice.

And Tony knew he would fall asleep only when it's about to dawn with that haunting tune playing on his mind as he tries to undo it. Pull apart into little pieces, simple notes – and he would keep on doing so until he knows exactly how miserably it would sound played on a piano even if all the notes were played perfectly.

The second time he was in his Malibu-mansion.

He couldn't sleep.

No, that wasn't surprising at all. He took up the habit to just keep on wandering around anywhere, muttering to himself, or if he was totally alone giving instructions to JARVIS, and just keep on stalking until his mind rebelled against him and shut down. Saving Tony a few hours of dreamless sleep.

He found himself dropped to a chair in the corner of his living room – not actually a real corner, since his house still sort of lacked all edges and corners, but whatever – he was sitting in front of the place where his grand piano used to be before he broke it at his first failed attempt of landing as Ironman. His mind still supplied with the image of the black majestic instrument.

It looked so real for a second that Tony felt thrilled to reach out and press the keys – to hear the first few notes he played in his head so many times, or on his knees during boring board meetings.

Then all of a sudden it struck him why he never replaced the instrument.

Because of its place, and because of the man who used to play on it with a cigar hanging from his lips, invading his life, his house even long after he had betrayed him. Because a piano was to be played – he used to say all the time – and Tony couldn't neglect such an amazing instrument. And because that man and him stabbing Tony in the back – in the chest – was another thing that used to haunt him.

And Tony wasn't in the mood to stir up those memories and nightmares when he already felt like breaking under the ones that came to torture him every single night or even some of his hours when he was wide awake.

The emptiness, the loneliness and the cold of infinite space were more than enough.

Sometimes he felt only this tiny melody kept him away from losing his mind completely.

One and a half weeks later he finally decided to buy two pianos.

One for the Avengers Tower. And one for Malibu.

As the others suspiciously eyed the instrument and Tony caught a questioning and childishly hopeful gleam in Steve's eyes, he put on one of his best and brightest faux smiles he usually used for the shows and to impress the press and presented their newest _dust-catcher_.

"I used to have one always around since I was a kid, and I also had one in Malibu, and I'm just sooo used to having it. Even though I could never play. But hey, every rich man has an expensive piano in the salon or something."

He offered as an explanation then nonchalantly turned on his heels to head out of the room – supporting the Avengers' opinion about him being a snob jerk. Yet Tony caught a glimpse of disappointment in Steve's eyes. Tony just ruined the last hope in the Super Soldier that he actually had at least a tiny bit of something artistic in him.

Tony maybe felt a tiny bit sorry for the poor old-man.

But act was everything. Had he given up his carefully composed act in any aspect of his life he would break down. And that was something he couldn't let happen.

After this Tony spent nights just sitting in front of the piano while all the others were already fast asleep, cracking his fingers in his lap, sometimes gritting his teeth in - he didn't know sometimes if it was out of sheer annoyance or if he just didn't want to let himself cry in helpless frustration; sometimes just staring at the perfect, polished surface of the piano watching as the evening lights of Manhattan and the arc reactor reflected and danced on it.

It wasn't the problem that he didn't know if the piano sounded perfect. Of course it did! And Bruce checked it for him after some persuasion from Natasha (since Clint's teasing didn't work out fine after they'd found out that the good doctor could play even if only for the slightest bit).

It'd been just – more than a decade since he last touched the keys.

And Tony felt very self-conscious about that. Especially what if someone caught him? How would he explain that? He knew it wouldn't be a problem if it was the case that he actually didn't remember. But Tony also knew he would break the piano into little pieces. He wouldn't be able to live down such failure. Even if it was only him who knew there was something to be considered as a failure.

What would happen to his act then? The remaining of his dearly cherished self-confidence would disappear – collapse like a castle built of cards. And the time would come when he breaks too.

Falling into an eternal nightmare of cold, empty and endless space.

Then after a terribly long day of saving Manhattan again – losing so much – Tony nearly losing his mind, he found himself sitting in front of his piano, his haunted eyes lingering on her, begging for some comfort of any kind!

He had never felt so desperate for a cool, smooth touch, that would assure him without a single word that nothing is going to be all right just in a second – but that he wasn't alone among his fears.

Tony reached out with shaking hands for the keys – they felt cool. And Tony realized his eyes weren't actually seeing anymore. His mind painted pictures from the past –

Where he felt himself falling again. He saw that endless space he once flew to through the portal. That was visible that day through the alien's eye. Reminding him too much of the same thing he saw in the depths of Loki's craze-filled eyes as the god cursed him for not dying when he had better been dead.

And the past year he wished so much he was. If he wouldn't survive Loki all the time...

He felt his eyes sting. They burnt. A lump in his throat made him choke at every breath he took.

Only black and white filling his blurred vision.

Now he was playing on soft, cool skin. Fingertips brushing over the delicate curves of ribs and hip, sliding over the elegant arch of a royal spine. Probing for the best sound.

The piano sounded perfect. In every detail. He couldn't complain. And all his notes, the tempo – he played as he should, as he played in his mind uncountable times.

But that still left a painful sting in his chest, his guts wrenched.

Now it was proven true...

Tony held back his air. He wouldn't let his tears flow. He wasn't. He was done mourning. He wouldn't sob. He was Tony Stark. He had lost so many things without a drop of tear. He wouldn't start crying now.

He was Tony Stark.

And he was the only one who knew that this seemingly masterpiece of music what just a pathetic echo was in real.

He could never bring back that soothing melody that once had eased all his pains and tore him out of this world. It was nothing close to Loki's lullaby that he was losing despite all his helpless attempts to keep it forever. To try and recreate just at least a tiny part of its calming effect.

But he wasn't. The real voice was lost to him. He won't hear Loki humming this tune ever again.

And the piano was no more but just an echo.

A shadow.

A faint replica.

But no matter what, he kept on playing. On the edge of total breakdown and his lies he built up to keep the remaining shreds of his sanity. Clinging hopelessly to a shadow. Imagining Loki out there somewhere – to whom he screamed out every single time he sat down and played the piano the whole night on an endless repeat.

Yet he was perfectly aware that he was all alone.

Sometimes he only played the piano because it silenced his screams. It was a moment of silence. When he couldn't hear the world.

But after all, he was just a shadow of a broken man, curled up at his piano listening to his echo all alone. So that the next morning he could close his eyes and pretend that everything was all right.

* * *

"It reminds me of the time without you..." Tony said on a stifled voice. Barely audible – yet so loud and harsh in the empty mansion, the empty room as the chords of the piano died down.

Loki didn't say anything.

But the hands on his shoulder remained. Squeezing gently. Kind. Soothing.

And this small moment shared between them meant for Tony being with Loki. He didn't need empty words that promised him that everything is going to be all right. Because promises were meant to be broken. It was beautiful about Loki. No promises – no broken promises of eternal presence and happy ending – in which none of them believed.

The heart pulsating beneath cool skin and layers of clothing that Tony had heard in his dreams so many times. Arms encircling his shoulders and neck and Loki's chin resting on the top of his head.

Humming his little tune with appreciation glinting in those mischievous brilliant green eyes.

* * *

**END**

**A/N: I hope it wasn't too boring for you. Reviews are always very much appreciated! And also just knowing that you at least read my stories :)**


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